


Cheaters Ever Prosper

by misura



Category: Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I ... " Tulio said. "You ... "</p><p>"We ... ?" Miguel suggested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheaters Ever Prosper

"It's a ... seven," Tulio said, staring at the dice.

Miguel, whom Tulio would henceforth think of as That Really Annoying Guy Who I Am Glad Is Really, Really Far Away From Me Right Now, strummed a few chords on a guitar that had been definitely _not_ been standing in a hidden corner mere moments ago, forgotten by some absent-minded music maker. "It seems that fortune does, indeed, favor the bold today, good sir."

"Five times in a row?" Tulio asked, because seriously? Even _he_ knew better than to be so utterly blatant about cheating - and this Miguel guy was clearly not nearly as intelligent as he was.

(Also, in spite of what all the giggling ladies appeared to be thinking, Miguel wasn't nearly as good-looking as Tulio. Just because he played guitar, that didn't make him handsome or anything. Well, handsom _er_.)

Miguel played a few more chords and did something with his eyes. Several ladies swooned.

"You - " Tulio said, and then he stopped.

"I - " Miguel declared, striking a dramatic pose, " - do not cheat. My good sir."

"Please," Tulio said. "It's Tulio." _And yeah, you really do. My good sir, my ass._

"Tulio," Miguel said and smiled. Tulio did not swoon. He was unswoonable. "It's your throw, I believe."

"It is," Tulio said. "Indeed, it is. Behold!" He held up his empty cup with his left hand, while his right slipped into the special pocket of his trousers where he kept his own pair of loaded dice.

"You ... have a wine cup?" Miguel said, sounding a bit uncertain, as well he should.

"Loser buys the next round?" Tulio proposed brightly.

Miguel considered. "To win, you would need a ... "

"A seven," Tulio said.

"Yes," Miguel said. "Exactly."

"Would any of the ladies care to blow on my dice for good luck?" Tulio tried. If Miguel'd asked, they'd probably been lining up around the block.

"Sir," Miguel said. "Please. Allow me. It would be my pleasure."

"No," Tulio said, because, well, yeah, he'd hit that, but not while he was working. A guy had to eat, after all. Something other than his shoes, by preference.

"I insist," Miguel said, reaching for Tulio's hand.

"You do, do you?" Tulio said. "Well, my good sir, I insist also."

Miguel did that thing with his eyes again, and Tulio felt his hand being - well, _kissed_ , really. There wasn't any tongue, but there was this subtle hint that, had they been in private, and at leisure, and maybe a little bit drunk ... well.

"On what do you insist, kind sir?" Miguel asked.

"I ... " Tulio said. "You ... "

"We ... ?" Miguel suggested.

"Yeah," Tulio said, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to or why he should care. Miguel's eyes reminded him of a doe's, all big and brown and melt-y. "Right."

"Well?" Miguel said.

"Ah," Tulio said.

Miguel strummed his guitar again. Something tense, this time. Something that suggested suspense, people holding their breath, a spinning coin, a pair of -

"Dice!" Tulio said. He still had two of them in his hand, so that was all right then; he'd throw a seven and win a lot of money and buy this Miguel guy a drink and then after, maybe.

"Let them fly!" Miguel said, twirling around for a bit and then striking a pose as a pair of doves took to the air in the background.

Tulio politely waited until the doves were well and truly gone. He knew the value of a good pose, after all; the time and effort it took to appear like a person of true and awe-inspiring magnificence without even trying.

He figured it was the least he could do, really; soon enough, he'd be taking all of Miguel's money and possibly some of his clothes, too. He could use a new shirt, and an extra pair of trousers always came in handy. Perhaps not the shoes; he didn't want to appear mean-spirited or too greedy.

"It's a - " Miguel said, leaning in closer to see.

"A - " Tulio said, doing the same, to make sure Miguel wouldn't pull a fast one on him. "A four?"

"Ah." Miguel played a sad little tune. "I am desolate. What bad luck."

Tulio glared at him. "A four?" It was impossible. He'd used these dice hundreds - well, dozens of times. They always came up seven. Always. There was no way whatsoever they could have come up four.

"Risk all, lose all," Miguel said, smiling in a way that was absolutely not charming at all.

"I didn't - " Tulio began, then amended his statement to: "Double or nothing?"

"I think not," Miguel said. "My, but will you look at the hour? Time for bed, I think."

"It's seven," Tulio said.

"Early to bed, early - well, something or another." Miguel beamed at him. "Come, sir, let me shake your hand. No hard feelings, are there?"

"Oh," Tulio said, thinking furiously. "No hard feelings whatsoever, I promise you." He slipped his dice back into his pocket, just before Miguel grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. "None. At. All."

"Good," Miguel said. "Good."

"Uh, you can let go of my hand now."

Miguel frowned. "But - "

"I'm going to need that hand."

"Oh, it's a very fine hand," Miguel said, still not releasing it. "Very fine. Why, I feel as if I should like to hold it forever."

"Um," Tulio said, because there was seductive hand-licking and tempting eye-gazing, and then there was being entirely too blatant. "I can't take my clothes off with just one hand?" he whispered, his voice discretely low. "So, you know?"

" _I_ can take your clothes off," Miguel said, way, _way_ too loudly. "Happy to. Not a problem at all. We can have sex! It will be wonderful!"

"Are you drunk?" Tulio asked. "No, wait, wrong question. How drunk _are_ you?"

Miguel grinned at him, and _now_ , of course, he chose to lower his voice. "Sober enough to cheat you at dice and to not regret anything tomorrow morning?"

"Oh, you'll regret something all right," Tulio muttered.

"My room is right this way," Miguel said, pulling him along. "If you behave very, very nicely, I'll even give you your die back. You know, the one that always comes up five."

 

("Fine," Tulio said, much, much later. "How did you know which one was which?")

("Oh," Miguel said, yawning. "I didn't.")

("You ... " Tulio had never wanted to kill anyone. It was undignified and messy and uncivilized and they generally hung you for it, if they caught you, instead of just beating you up for a bit and then going away, feeling vaguely stupid because they'd let you cheat them.)

("Guess I got lucky, huh?" Miguel smiled happily.)

("I hate you," Tulio said. "Do that thing with your tongue again. That, I liked.")


End file.
